


Dreaming You Home

by AnneAce



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Depressed Steve Rogers, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt Steve Rogers, M/M, POV Steve Rogers, Pining, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Short One Shot, breaking in - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:22:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29351133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneAce/pseuds/AnneAce
Summary: After failing to find Bucky, Steve went back to New York and tried to make a home. Maybe Bucky will find him instead.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Kudos: 17





	Dreaming You Home

The open window had been empty for hours. Dark night passing by as he laid curled around his pillow, sleepless.

It was empty no longer. 

Steve felt his body shaking. God. What dream was this? What apparatus had come to him? That was what this had to be. Right? It couldn’t be Bucky. The man, standing in his room. The Moonlit sun. 

His breath caught in his throat devouring each image of Bucky he could get a grasp on. Seeing him in battle or in file photographs was different than this. This up-close, in a million watts. Bright and in HD. Steve does not understand why people liked HD TV in the future. It hurt his eyes. He doesn't really get TV in the first place. 

But there was Bucky. And if he was on Tv, Steve would stare at him all day. 

Bucky was as twitchy as he was. Steve could see it. Feel it. He wanted him. Wanted him to stay. Steve had rarely ever gotten what he wanted. Maybe if he was still and silent enough he could keep from spooking Bucky like a wild animal. Steve felt like the wild animal. 

Bucky looked good. More or less homeless, but put together. Not like on the bridge or on the Triskelion. Not as he did in the pictures before the mind wipes. He looked like a man handling what was given to him. Playing the deck he had the best he could.

And wasn’t that Bucky?

It was the most Bucky thing to do. 

He had always been smart with what he had. A scary brilliant mind, the ability to manipulate people, the tenacity to get any job done. Bucky wasn’t his Sargent because he had known him since childhood. Bucky was his Sargent because he would have been the Captain if Steve wasn’t around. 

It was a ghost standing in front of him. An Angel. A memory. It was Bucky. 

It was Bucky. 

Bucky’s voice rang in his ears. Steve couldn’t help the small whimper that came out of his mouth. Not out of fear, but utter relief. Bucky always did that to him. His heartbeat picked up as Bucky got closer. He knew Bucky would be able to hear that, would probably be able to smell the adrenaline Steve’s body worked through him. Super Soldier Senses and all that. 

And it was 1938 again. Before either of them had ever heard about the War. They were living together in a tiny one-bedroom apartment that barely had working water or heat. That was okay. It just meant they had more excuses to stay close. It was perfect. It was everything Steve could dream of. Bucky was making money at the docks, and Steve was in art school. He had a few clients even. They were saving money for once, and Bucky could go out dancing when he wanted to. 

It was 1938, and Bucky just got home. Steve set down his pillow relaxing his hold on it, and looking up at Bucky. Bucky had come home and had come straight to him. Like always. Like he always would. Asked him if he had woken him up.

He never did. 

Steve shook his head no. “Couldn’t sleep without you.” 

And Bucky talking again was a slash against the mirage, the illusion, the past. Bucky, trying to make sure he wasn’t afraid. Steve wanted to reach out and grab him. Tell him he could never be afraid of him. He had never been afraid of Bucky. He had been afraid for Bucky though. 

Steve had thought about finding Bucky again. Rehearsed what he would say time and time again. But he never had the right words. Was never able to find anything appropriate. He wanted to spill it all out now. 

Looking into the eyes he loved so much. The eyes begging him to come back home. Steve didn’t know if he could bring Bucky back home. Even with him standing here. But he had to try. 

Steve shifted back in bed, telegraphing his movements, keeping his hands visible, and laid down on the bed. Not moving away from Bucky, but making room for him. 

His heart beat even faster as he pulled the covers back a clear offering for Bucky to climb into bed with him. 

Steve. Steve wanted to know what he could say. What he should say. What were the magical words that he could say that would keep Bucky here?

Steve took in a deep breath his eyes not wavering from Bucky's once. “I’ve been waiting for you.” 

It was so true that Steve hurt saying it. The words barely a breath out of his mouth. Thank god for super hearing. Steve finished laying down letting his body go limp and relaxed. He was vulnerable. Almost small in the bed waiting to see if Bucky would join him or not. 

Maybe it was too much. Maybe Bucky would stay. 

Either way, Steve gave him his undying trust. If Bucky wanted he was a stuffed pig waiting for slaughter. To show his devotion. And maybe Bucky would see that even if he left. 

It was 2019, and Steve was still dreaming that Bucky would come home. 


End file.
